Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

New Salem, despite its small size, was one of the most interesting towns in the quiet state of Oregon. It had originally started out as just Salem, but when the monster population of the town skyrocketed thanks to a misunderstanding a few hundred years ago, accommodations had to be made. The town was essentially split in two; one half being the human side, the other being the monster side. Travel between the two sides was allowed and even encouraged at times, but wasn’t often done by either side. Monsters for fear of being ostracized by the humans, and humans for fear of the monsters attacking them. The small town was close to a mirror image of itself, cut right down the middle of the main street.

As with any town, there were countless businesses, restaurants, and parks that were dotted across either side. But even despite the similarities, it was difficult to know exactly what was what. Naming conventions, and even general speech patterns, tended to greatly differ between humans and monsters. A human would need nothing short of a monster- or monster expert- to navigate the other side of town.

For two lucky students of New Salem High, they had both in one convenient package. Claire and Chad had made friends with one Jackson Jekyll on Halloween, over a year ago. It hadn’t been a particularly easy time for any of them, but they did their best to stay in touch afterwards and had been rather successful. On one particular cloudy day, the trio was on their way to the shopping maul on the west side of town.
“Wait, wait,” Claire spoke up, “All of the monster stuff has monster-y names. Why is the mall just called the mall?”
“It’s pronounced the same as mall, but it’s spelled M-A-U-L. Like an injury caused by scratching or tearing?” Jackson explained.
“Ah, yes. Of course.”
“I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to monster slang,” Chad said.
“It took me a while. You should’ve seen the way the entire creepateria turned to look at me when I said ‘scare-ific’.”
“What is it, terror-ific?” Claire asked.
“That’s what you’d think, but it’s actually ‘creeperific’.”
“That makes zero sense, Jax.”
“I said the exact same thing, but nobody there really listens to normies. Well, maybe they do. They just don’t listen to me.” Jackson laughed under his breath and rubbed the back of his neck. The three of them continued on their walk, making idle conversation until they eventually reached the maul.

To an average viewer, the maul itself was perfectly normal. Escalators, stores, gumball machines by each entrance. It was perfectly ordinary- or at least, it would’ve been had it been empty. What was truly out of the norm for a sleepy Oregon town was the building’s inhabitants. Monsters of all shapes and sizes roamed the halls. A 15-foot yeti stood in line for a smoothie stall behind a few zombies, three or four fire elementals ran up and down the right hall, much to the disdain of a small group of vampires. Claire and Chad looked around at the patrons of the maul. They hadn’t seen this many monsters in one place since Halloween.
“Wanna get some drinks first?” Jackson spoke up. “My beast- sorry, my best friend works at the Coffin Bean on the second floor. His name’s Deuce, I don’t know if you met him last year or not.”
“You have other friends?” Claire said, a twinge of sarcasm in her words.
Jackson scoffed, walking towards the escalator with his human friends in tow. “Funny. Granted, he is, like, one of two friends I have at school. So you aren’t really wrong.”

Soon enough, the trio were standing in the expansive food court, looking around at all the choices. There was authentic Hexican food, a smaller place run by a family from Fanghai, and, their target, a coffee shop right on the corner.
Jackson made a beeline for the cafe, approaching the front counter. The boy in sunglasses running it perked up upon sight of all three of them, greeting them with a smile. He held out a fist as Jackson walked up.
“Hey, man, how you doin’?” The boy- presumably Deuce said.
“Good, good.” Jackson tapped his own fist against Deuce’s. “Deuce, this is Claire, Chad. I don’t think you guys met last year.
“Sup,” Deuce said, turning his attention to the two humans and waving at them. The snakes on his head hissed in what Claire hoped was approval. “You can’t tell, but I’m winking.”
Jackson chuckled and pointed up at the menu. “Let me get a venti casketberry creep-uccino, add a half ounce of dragon’s fruit, and top it off with cold foam.”
Deuce tapped a few buttons on his screen and turned to Claire and Chad. “For you?”
Chad paused. “A coffee?”
The gorgon laughed quietly. “Yeah, we sure do sell that.”

After about five minutes of Deuce helping the two normies navigate the fairly confusing monster-oriented menu, and once a substantial line had formed behind them, the three friends got their coffee and sat down at a table in the food court.
“Is the jar of eyeballs on the counter a usual staple?” Claire asked, leaning back in her seat.
“Huh? Oh, I didn’t even see it. So I guess so?” Jackson shrugged and took a sip from his reddish-pinkish coffee. “Holt is gonna hate me in the morning. He’s lactose intolerant.”
“And you aren’t?” Claire raised an eyebrow.
“Apparently not. Got lucky with that one.”
Claire chuckled and looked up at her half-normie friend. Learning that Jackson was half-monster last Halloween had certainly come as a surprise to both Chad and herself. It wasn’t like either of them viewed him as inferior like most of New Salem. It just made things… different. Even during the few days before she knew, she’d noticed oddities in his behavior; his complete dislike of seemingly all music, his scary unreliability, and how uncomfortable and sweaty he got when the “blue kid” was brought up. Unfortunately, most kids at New Salem High School had at least somewhat reverted to how it was before Halloween. It wasn’t like they were trying to publicly execute monsters or deface their school, but even a year after, Claire still heard them talking about Jackson. It made her sick to her stomach. Monster or not, nobody deserved a death sentence for vandalism.

Claire, Jackson, and Chad all fell into a comfortable silence as they slowly drank down each of their individual drinks. It was always times like these that they cherished. They didn’t always need a funny conversation or a chat about the goings-on at school. Sometimes, it was nice to just enjoy each others’ company.
Jackson glanced back and forth between them, occasionally catching their glance and smiling in return. His eyes drifted over to Claire, and once again, they smiled at each other. A small voice in the back of Jackson’s head spoke up.
“What would she look like if you strangled her?”
Jackson nearly choked on his drink, catching the attention of his two friends. He held up a thumbs up and cleared his throat. Probably just Holt trying to get a reaction out of him. So he’d ignore it. The last thing he needed was to encourage it. It was a few minutes before the voice spoke up again.
“You have fire coursing through your veins. Wouldn’t it be so easy to burn down this entire building with everyone inside?”
This time, though, Jackson was smart enough to set down his drink the second he heard it. He stood up from the table and glanced between Claire and Chad.
“I gotta go to the bathroom. Be right back.” Jackson darted off, careful not to look like he was in too much of a hurry.

As soon as he was in the relative privacy of the public bathroom, he splashed water from the sink onto his face and made his way into the big stall at the end of the long row. He let out a deep breath and took off his glasses, holding them between two loose fingers.
“So, Holt. What was that?”
The voice that spoke up was undoubtedly his brother. “Huh?”
“Come on. You saying that I should strangle Claire? Or burn down the whole maul? Don’t play dumb.”
“Hey, that wasn’t me, Jax! I didn’t even hear that shit.”
“Well I certainly did. Whatever it is, you need to knock it off.” Jackson huffed and got as close as he could to the wall without actually leaning against it. Public bathrooms were gross, but they were private. Kind of.
“Jackson, that wasn’t me. I swear, I ain’t lying. I don’t love your normie friends, but I wouldn’t tell you to murder ‘em!”
“Okay, okay, fine. Can you just… try to stop that from happening?”
“How the hell do you expect me to do that when neither of us know what it is?” Jackson could almost feel Holt’s annoyance. It was giving him a headache.
“You’re the one in my head right now. Figure it out. I really want the rest of this fang-out to go well. Can you do that?”
“I can sure as hell try.”
“Thank you.” Jackson slid his glasses back onto his nose and unlocked the stall door, being immediately met with a judgmental look from an older werewolf that was washing his paws at the sink. That was the part that Jackson hated the most about sharing a body with someone else- it always looked like he was talking to himself.

Jackson was sweaty. Really sweaty. That was the first thing that Claire noticed when he got back from the bathroom. It wasn’t exactly unlike him to disappear without much notice, given his dual nature. But it had sure taken her a lot of time to get used to it. Chad, on the other hand, was much less accustomed to the half-monster’s freaky schedule.
“You ok, Jackie?” Chad asked.
“Yeah, fine. Just, uh… had to make sure Holt remembered to feed Crossfade.” Jackson’s gaze darted between Claire and Chad, as if daring the voice in his head to speak up. It didn’t, though. Maybe, just maybe, he could spend his time at the maul like a normal kid. Well, as close to a normal kid as a Jekyll could get.
“Did he?” Chad seemed just a little too invested in the chameleon’s eating habits.
“Yeah. Had to make sure he didn’t feed the little guy too many waxworms. I’ve told him over and over, they’re only supposed to be a couple times a week.”
“What do chameleons even eat?” Claire chimed in.
“Crickets, mostly. They also eat some worms and moths.”
They ended up sticking on the topic of their own pets for nearly thirty minutes, even as they wandered around the maul. Jackson’s chameleon, Chad’s dog, and Claire’s pet rats. Chad in particular was eager to show them the cutest pictures of his border collie he could find in his camera roll, most of them being blurry pictures of the dog trying to jump and catch a ball. The other two talked mostly about their pet’s habits; what they ate, whether or not they liked other people, all of the times that Crossfade had stuck his tongue into Jackson’s ear- the three of them continued to make idle chatter for the next few hours as they walked through the wide linoleum hallways of the maul.

Fortunately enough, the rest of the trip to the maul went rather well in Jackson’s book. The unidentified voice in his head- and the identified one- had finally decided to shut it. Once he was finally back home right around 9 p.m., Jackson sat down at his desk and pulled a worksheet out of his school bag. All students were required to take a Monster Anatomy class in order to graduate, and sophomore year seemed just as good a time as any. Jackson and Holt had decided to take the class the same year, though Jackson wasn’t fully convinced Holt didn’t just want to cheat off his papers. He clicked down on his mechanical pencil a few times and switched on his lamp.
Crossfade, resting comfortably in his enclosure, quickly pulled Jackson’s attention away. He scooted his chair over to where the small chameleon was and opened the door to the glass cage.
“Hey, buddy. Want a worm?” Jackson reached down and picked up a small white waxworm with a metal pair of tweezers. He held the wriggling creature out to Crossfade, who was quick to grab it with his tongue.
“Good boy, ‘fade.” Jackson smiled, setting down the tweezers and letting the horned chameleon step onto his hand. Nearly the same second that the small reptile’s even smaller feet made contact with Jackson’s skin, a voice in the back of his mind started to speak. Jackson’s throat hitched.
“He’s so small. So helpless. You could crush him. It’d be like crushing a grape.”
Jackson’s blood ran cold and he nearly dropped Crossfade. With shaky hands, he set the chameleon back on the branch he’d been resting on, shut the door, and slid back over to his desk. If that was Holt, he had gone way too far. But Holt wouldn’t say that, he loved Crossfade too. So if it wasn’t Holt, was… was he the one thinking that?
Jackson jotted down a few words onto a Post-It note with one hand as he grabbed Holt’s headphones with the other. Whatever it was that had made him think that, he wanted absolutely nothing to do with it. He started Holt’s playlist on shuffle and slid on the headphones.

Holt blinked a few times to adjust his eyes to the bright light of Jackson’s desk lamp. A bright green piece of paper on the table caught his attention first. He picked it up and squinted to read Jackson’s tiny writing.
“Finish the homework. I need a break.” Hmph. Figures Jax would leave him with the hard homework. Holt didn’t even recognize half these words. He stared down at question five, where Jackson had left off, hoping that the answer would magically appear in his mind. But that’s impossible.
“What is a malignant tumor formed from glandular structures in epithelial tissue called?” Holt read out loud, quietly repeating the question back to himself. None of those words made any sense. He was probably mispronouncing most of them.
“Adenocarcinoma.” Someone in his mind spoke.
“Oh. Thanks, Jax. Keep doin’ that and we’ll be done in no time.” Holt looked down at his paper and started writing. “A-D-I-”
“E.”
“Thanks. A-D-E-N-O…”

Holt finished their shared homework in what had to have been record time. With Jackson helping out, their anatomy homework was a breeze. Music theory was always easy, and for math, he could just Boo-gle it. He went to bed pretty early that night; early by his standards, anyways, he usually called it a night sometime around 4 in the morning.
The extra sleep was more than welcome when Holt woke up the next morning to their loud, obnoxious alarm. It had to be incredibly loud to wake Holt up over his music, and it had to be in a weird time signature so it would actually wake Jackson up instead of his counterpart. Holt hopped out of bed, quick to slide off the ragged old band T-shirt he wore to sleep.
“You up, Jax?”
“Mhmm.” Based on the rasp in his voice, it sounded like Jackson had just woken up too.
“Thanks for the help with the homework last night. Really saved my hide.”
“What homework?”
“You know, the anatomy homework? It would’ve taken me hours if you hadn’t just given me the answers.” Holt slipped into his black/white split tank top and slid on his bright red sneakers.
“I went to bed as soon as we swapped out. I didn’t help with our homework at all.”
“Weird. ‘Cause I know for damn sure I wouldn’t have known what adeno-carnoma or whatever is.”
“Yeah, that really is weird. First, I start hearing things that aren’t you, and now, you’re hearing things that aren’t me.” Jackson thinking too hard made Holt’s eyes hurt. He rubbed the sleep out of his face and shoved a few folders into his backpack.
“You think we should ask Mom?”
“She’s probably the only person that would know what this is. Gods know we wouldn’t get an answer out of Grandpa. Just don’t expect any sort of clear-cut answer from her right away.”
“You’re right. You got the first class today, yeah? Let me switch out right quick…” Holt slipped off his headphones and let Jackson take the lead for the first time since last night.

Jackson was, in all honesty, terrified to be back in the driver’s seat. Now that he was rather certain that whatever he was hearing probably wasn’t Holt, it led him to wonder exactly what- or who- it was. He’d never had this issue before. Why did it have to start right after winter break?
He made his way downstairs where his mother was cooking a quick breakfast of eggs and toast. With a deep sigh, he pulled out a chair and sat down.
“What’s got you all worked up, Jackson?” Sydney asked.
“Just… dealing with some stuff.”
“Holt stuff?”
“No, not really. Weird stuff. And it keeps happening.”
Sydney raised an eyebrow, turning her attention away from the eggs on her pan. “Do you wanna tell me about it?”
Jackson exhaled, taking a second to consider what he wanted to say. He wanted to tell his mom, she was the only person except for his lunatic grandpa who actually had a chance of understanding what he was going through. But maybe he could leave out the details about strangling people.
“It’s just… at the maul yesterday, I heard someone in my head telling me to do stuff. Y’know, stuff I usually wouldn’t do. And Holt said it wasn’t him. I’m worried it’s me thinking things I don’t… want to.” Jackson’s voice trailed off.
Sydney’s face seemed to lose a bit of its colour. “What kind of things were you thinking, honey?”
“You know. Violent things?”
“Oh.” Sydney turned her gaze back to the food on the stove as she bit her lip. “I don’t know what that could be. I’ll take you to the mad pediatrician on my next day off.”
“And you won’t forget like last time?”
“Jackson, I’ve told you a million times, Jess needed help moving.”
“Uh-huh.” Jackson rested his head on his palm, blowing a lock of hair away from his face.

Sydney stayed quiet for a few seconds. Jekyll/Hyde lineage was never easy to navigate, especially not as a teenager. Especially not under her son’s… circumstances. His monstrous sides had manifested in a way that was rather uncommon for their family, despite the small number of people actually affected by the experiments of her father.
“I promise, Jackson. On Saturday, I’ll take you to the doctor. Though a psychiatrist could probably help more. Have you reached out to your therapist yet?”
“No.”
Here we go. Jackson always got like this when something was upsetting him. “You should. You know she’s trained to deal with cases like yours.”
“Yeah. ‘Cases like mine’.”
“I’m not going to pretend like I have absolutely no idea what it could be. I’ve been alive and dealing with my own problems a lot longer than you. But I want to ask a professional before filling your head with my own crazy ideas.” Sydney laughed quietly in a desperate attempt to ease the tension.
“So you’re saying a doctor who’s never treated anyone like me knows what I’m going through better than I do?”
“That isn’t what I’m saying.”
“I bet Dad would know. He’d help.”
Despite her best efforts, Sydney’s blood started to boil. She gritted her teeth, keeping her back turned to her son. “Your father and I divorced for a reason. Besides, he wouldn’t know because he isn’t from that side of the family.”
“At least he’d try and help instead of pushing back doctor visits by six months.”
“Jackson, can we please talk about this later?”
“Do you mean later or never?” There was a certain bite to Jackson’s tone that Sydney wasn’t accustomed to hearing.
“Later.”
“Fine.” Sydney heard the squeaking of chair legs against tiled floor from behind her. Jackson had stood up, carrying his two backpacks and walking for the door. “I’m going to school now.”
“It’s not even 7 o’clock. You haven’t even eaten breakfast.”
“I’ll walk. I can get breakfast at school. Bye, Mom.” The door shut behind him, and Sydney Jekyll was left completely alone in her kitchen with a breakfast for two.

“So that didn’t really go according to plan,” Holt said.
“No kidding. She’s always like that. I’m convinced she would’ve kept you a secret from me forever if I hadn’t found out on my own.”
“Mm. You can imagine how thrilled I was to learn I shared a body with Monster High’s resident punching bag.”
“Oh, shut it, Holt.” Jackson smiled a small smile for the first time that morning.
“You plan on goin’ back?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, are you gonna go back home once school’s out?”
Jackson furrowed his brow. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“You said it yourself that Dad would be able to help out more than Mom. It ain’t like we don’t know where he lives. We could just… stay there for a little while.”
“What about Crossfade? Who would feed him?”
“Leave lil’ Fade up to me.”
“Alright. I trust you. Whatever it is, we’re gonna figure it out, whether it’s with Mom’s help or not.”
“That’s the spirit, Jax!” Jackson grinned at Holt’s words, able to feel his body heat rising thanks to the excitement of his other half. “But for now, let’s get you to class without getting decked, kay?”
“Okay.”

Chapter Text

Most students who didn’t know Jackson didn’t think about him much. Some who did went out of their way to make his life difficult. And others who knew him could definitely tell that something was wrong. The two monsters who called themselves Jackson’s best friends had joined in an impromptu meeting at the end of the hallway.
“What do you think is going on?” Deuce Gorgon looked down at the simulacrum standing in front of him.
“Even for him, he seems tired and sad, you know?” Frankie Stein bit her nails, staring down the hall at the boy in question.
“I saw him at the maul yesterday with Chad and Claire. He didn’t seem this upset. I think something might’ve happened.”
“And what’s the chance of him talking?” Frankie glanced between Jackson and Deuce, as if asking for answers with her mismatched eyes. She was close to Jackson, but Deuce was a lot closer. He knew the human a lot better than she did.
“Four out of ten. If he’s this shaken up by something, I’d guess he’d want to avoid telling us.”
“I have Claire’s number. We could text her?” Frankie held up her I-Coffin.
“Good idea. If you can get a hold of her during first period, we can meet back up between first and second. Sound like a plan?”
“Works as well as any.” Frankie nodded at Deuce, walking in the opposite direction to make it to her Biteology class.

Usually, Frankie was the one getting onto other monsters for being on their devices during class. But in her eyes, it was important to find out what was troubling her friend. It was for a noble cause. She scrolled way back in her contact list until she found the name she was looking for. Hiding her I-Coffin under the desk, she typed out her text with one hand and pretended to write class notes with the other.
-F.S.: Hey claire. Sorry its been a stitch since i texted. Me and deuce are worried about jackson. Did you notice anything weird about him yesterday at the maul? Text back soon pls xxx
Her leg bounced up and down as she waited to feel the vibration of her I-Coffin in her hand. It took a while, maybe five minutes, but soon enough, she felt a buzz in her palm. Frankie glanced down beneath the desk to read the message.
-C.G.: normal for a bit, disappeared real sudden and was all nervous when he came back. he still actin weird?
Frankie drew in a deep breath and held it in her chest as she typed out her response.
-F.S.: He hasn’t said a word to me or deuce all day. Seems like something’s really bothering him. Deuce said the likelyhood of him talking is 4/10. Havent asked him about it yet.
Ten minutes had passed from her last message. Frankie began to worry that maybe Claire had got caught with her I-Coffin in class. Wait, no. Normies didn’t have I-Coffins. They had… phones? She’d read about a few different kinds in magazines she’d picked up in New Salem. Just as her mind started to wander back to her favourite shirts from said magazines, her phone buzzed again.
-C.G.: ill text + ask. easier to talk when u arent face to face, yk? gtg, teachers comi
Frankie could only assume that Claire’s message had been cut short by the threat of being caught by a teacher. She could understand that much. In the moment, she had to be happy that their classroom layouts meant teachers couldn’t see anything below the desks. She tucked her I-Coffin into the front pocket of her backpack and looked back up at the chalkboard to try and frantically copy down all of the notes she needed before class was over.

Just as promised, she met back up with Deuce in the same spot they’d been earlier that morning. Jackson, though, was nowhere to be found.
“So? What did Claire say?” Deuce asked.
“She said he was acting normal, then disappeared out of nowhere, and then was ‘all nervous when he came back’.” Frankie used air quotes to emphasize her point.
“Hm. Probably means it was something to do with Holt, if he didn’t want anybody to see.”
“Agreed,” Frankie said, “I’ll try to catch up with him after class. And if all else fails, we at least know we’ll all be in Study Howl for 5th hour.”
“Good point. Meet back up during lunch?”
Frankie nodded quickly, dragging her bag behind her as she speed-walked away to her next class.

Jackson had just planned on coasting through his day. And so far, it had gone rather well. Manny hadn’t made it a point to try and skewer him yet, none of his classes were too challenging, and nobody even realized anything was wrong. Or if they did, nobody said anything. Which was something he could always appreciate. The last thing he wanted was to be around other people. Who knows what he may tell himself to do next?
Second period had just gotten out, and he made his way to his locker to get his textbook for Holt’s Clawculus class when he heard a pair of heels clicking against the floor tiles. And they were getting closer. He closed his locker door to be met face-to-face with Frankie.
“Hey, Jackson. How you doing?”
“Good. Just… getting ready to go to my next class? Or Holt’s next class, I guess.”
“That’s cool. I just wanted to come by and check on you. I haven’t seen you around all day.”
“I’m just not feeling it today. Everything is fine, though, I promise.” Jackson rubbed his upper arm, where a nasty bruise had formed thanks to Manny the week prior.
“Are you sure? You seem out of it, more than usual.”
“It’s okay, Frankie. I’ll work it out eventually.”
“You know that you can talk to me if anything’s going on, right? I may not understand the ins and outs of the whole sharing a body thing, but if you’ve got some feelings to get out, I’m your ghoul.” Frankie reached out to put a hand on his shoulder.
Jackson jerked away from her touch. “It’s fine. Really. Promise.”
Frankie sighed. “Okay, but you know how I feel when you break promises.”
Before Jackson could respond, the whispering voice in the back of his mind chimed in again.
“That won’t be the only thing you’ll break. She’s so much weaker than you. You could break her arm. Her leg. Her neck.”
Jackson’s face went pale and his breath caught in his throat. Frankie was saying something to him, extending her hand towards him, but whatever it was, he couldn’t hear.
“I… have to go,” He muttered, just quiet enough for Frankie to catch. Jackson spun on his heels and walked the other way, keeping his head down as he clamped a pair of headphones over his ears and closed his eyes.

Math had always been one of Holt’s worst subjects. He always knew what notes and beats would produce what sound in music. But with numbers? He was completely clueless. Unfortunately for him, at least one semester of Clawculus was required to graduate. He thought it was dumb, but then again, if he had his way, he’d only be taking music classes.
Once the class had gotten into full swing, Holt was both saddened and relieved to learn that they were starting a review for their first quiz. If it was only a review, maybe he could keep his head down and hope he wouldn’t get called on. He’d been jotting down ideas for song lyrics in his notebook for close on twenty minutes when he heard something through his music.
“How about you, Holt?”
He looked up, pulling his headphones aside so it was only playing in one ear. “Huh?”
“Can you solve the problem on the board?” Mr. Mummy asked him.
“Could- Could you repeat the question?” Damnit. Of course he had to get unlucky today of all days, when he’d been paying absolutely no attention.
The bandage-wrapped creature teacher sighed and used his baton to point at the numbers on the board. “Two variables are related by the equation on the board. What is the equation of the tangent line to the graph of this relation at the point one, one?”
Holt cringed and stood up, walking to the front of the class and taking a piece of chalk from Mr. Mummy’s decaying hand. He stared down the numbers on the chalkboard like they were a towering beast, waiting to be slain. He repeated the equation back to himself over and over in his head.
2lnx + lny = x - y
What the hell was that supposed to mean? Math ain’t supposed to have letters! Just as Holt was about to snap the piece of chalk in half, a voice spoke up in the back of his mind.
“Two y plus x equals three.”
Holt bit his lip. Could he trust the voice? If it was Jackson, he might have just been messing around, trying to get Holt to embarrass himself in front of the entire class. But if it was the same voice from last night, maybe he could trust it? He wrote down the solution on the board underneath the first equation and stepped aside.
“Impressive, Holt. You’re correct. Though, next time I expect you to show your work.” Mr. Mummy plucked the chalk out of Holt’s hand and gestured for him to return to his seat.
Holt sat back down at his desk and stared at a blank sheet of paper. He was actually right? He knew for a fact that he wasn’t the one that knew the answer; when it came to math, he was about as intelligent as a group of zombies all trying to get to one place. But Jackson had said last night that he didn’t help with the homework at all. So who?

“It was freaky weird,” Frankie said to Deuce as a lunch lady scooped a generous helping of a purple-green sludge onto her tray. “He was definitely hiding something, but nothing too out of the ordinary. And then out of nowhere, he was pale as a ghost and he left before I could say anything else.”
“That’s really weird. Was it like an ‘I’m gonna be late’ running away or a ‘something is seriously up’ running away?”
“Something was definitely up. He was hyperventilating a bit, and I’m pretty sure I saw him start to cry a little bit. Not to mention how he looked at me… Gods, he looked horrified, Deuce.”
“Of you?”
“No, no way. But it was something.”
“Huh.” Deuce stepped out of the lunch line and made his way over to a table in the creepateria, followed closely by Frankie. “I don’t think it’s a Holt problem.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I’ve helped him out with a few of his Holt problems, and it was way different. He wasn’t quite this shaken up.” Deuce sat down between Heath and Frankie.
“So you think it’s a him problem?”
“Probably.”
Heath leaned over to look between the two of them. “What’s up?”
“Something’s bugging Jax.” Frankie’s bolts sparked. “Hey, you’re his cousin. You should talk to him. Maybe he’ll open up to family.”
“Uh-uh. No way in hell.” Heath shook his head.
“Why not?”
“I made a promise to my folks I wouldn’t get too wrapped up in the Jekyll/Hyde side of the family. Pops said it was too complicated and dangerous.”
“Confusing, sure, but not dangerous. That’s a little rude.” Frankie huffed.
“Either way. I’m not getting involved. That’s for him to work out.”
“Well he won’t be doing it alone.” The table was quiet for a few moments as the students used their precious free time to eat their lunches.

Frankie felt her phone vibrate in her skirt pocket. She was quick to pull it out, happy to find it was another text from Claire.
-C.G.: at lunch. texted jax during passing per.
Attached to the text message was a screenshot of a chat log, what looked to be a group chat between Jackson, Claire, and Chad called “The Normie Squad”.
-C.G.: @JaxJekyll whats up with u man? frnkie sayz ur acting weird.
-J.J.: I’m ok. Just had a rough morning
-Ch.H.: You sure, dude? We can always meet up over cofee again :D
-J.J.: NO. Can’t be around anybody rn. Too dangerous
-C.G.: dangerous? r u sure everythings good?
-J.J.: I’ll tell you when I can. For now, pls just leave me alone.
-Ch.H.: Feel better soon bro!!! xxx
-C.G.: im worried about u man.
-C.G.: Jax?
-C.G.: 3 missed calls from Claire Greye
-C.G.: call back when you can.
Frankie read through the messages over and over. He “couldn’t be around anybody”? It was “dangerous”? A part of Frankie told her that he had asked to be left alone. It was probably for a reason. But another part of her said that she had to help. This was her friend, after all. And what are friends for but pestering you to open up? She made up her mind then and there. Whatever was bothering Jackson so much, she’d get to the bottom of it.

Luckily for her, she knew she’d see him again soon. The three of them all had Study Howl in fifth period again. Frankie walked into the classroom, book bag in hand, scanning the room for any sign of Jackson. Nothing. Oh, well. He wouldn’t be late. She took a seat at a mostly empty table, save for a ghost girl from a different grade she didn’t recognize. Deuce was quick to follow, taking a seat across from her.
Jackson managed to get to class just before the bell rang. From the looks of it, there were only three open seats. One was at a table with people he didn’t recognize, but they had to be at least seniors. One of them looked like he’d gotten held back a few more times than was normal. They’d probably pick on him. The second seat was directly across from Manny. That was a no-go. He’d just gotten his glasses fixed, he didn’t want them to break again. Besides, in his state, he couldn’t trust himself to not start a fight. And the last seat was directly between the two people he really didn’t want to see. Just his luck. He sighed and took a seat beside Frankie.

It didn’t take long for the first note to be passed across the table. Frankie slid a folded up piece of notebook paper over to Jackson. He moved to push it away, but Frankie only nudged it forward. He huffed and unfolded the note.
“Are you okay?”
Well, wasn’t that the million dollar question of the day? It was all anybody was asking. And he was getting a little sick of it. He jotted down a quick response and passed the paper back to Frankie, who was quick to read it.
“I’m fine.”
If Jackson wasn’t her friend and if they weren’t in a dead quiet classroom, she could’ve slapped him. He was so obviously not fine. Time to up the ante. She wrote down a few words and slid it back to Jackson.
“Claire sent me a ss of your guys’s group chat. Why do you think it’s dangerous to be around other people?”
Because of course she did. How could he have forgotten that Frankie had Claire’s number? Now Frankie knew, at least a little more than he was comfortable with knowing. Maybe it’d be nice to get things off his chest. Maybe it wouldn’t. Frankie was quick to grab the note as soon as Jackson set his pencil down.
“Been hearing things. There’s a voice in my head that isn’t Holt that keeps telling me to do things I don’t want to. That’s what happened in the hall earlier.”
Frankie pursed her lips and looked down at the note for a little while. That… would definitely be a problem for anybody. But there was one thing that was still confusing her. She passed the note across the table again.
“What things is it telling you to do?”
Ah, shit. The one question that Jackson really didn’t want her to ask. At least it wasn’t his mom. At least Frankie would try to help. Probably.
“Tells me to hurt people. People I care about. Like Claire + Fade. And you.”
Frankie furrowed her brow and was quick to scribble out her reply.
“You should tell Deuce.”
Jackson nodded and slid the paper over to Deuce. Underneath the table, he pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to their shared group chat, that Frankie had lovingly titled “The Real Housemonsters of New Salem”.
-J.J.: Sleepover 2nite. Dad’s house. I’ll send the address.
Frankie looked down at her I-Coffin and smiled.

The three of them went their separate ways for the rest of the school day until the final bell rang to dismiss them. They all met up right outside Study Howl. Frankie was the first to speak up.
“Hey, before we go,” She began, “Clawdeen said we should check the libury’s encycreepedias. It’s got extensive documents on every single kind of monster out there. So if it’s anything to do with your monster side, then it’ll probably be in there.”
“You mean the extensive records about the three people who have inherited the whole Jekyll and Hyde thing?” Jackson crossed his arms.
“Maybe! Cleo told me that they update all the time by some kind of ancient magic. So anytime a new monster is discovered or something new is found out about a monster, the encycreepedias update.”
“Worth a shot,” Deuce said, shrugging his shoulders. All three of them maneuvered their way around the students looking to get out of school until they made their way to the libury.

“The encycreepedias are on the second floor. Me and Deuce will look up there. If you want, there might be some other books about strange things happening to half-monsters in the physiology and psychology sections. Feel free to look around down there.” Frankie gave Jackson a thumbs up and made her way up the stairs side-by-side with Deuce.
Jackson was skeptical that the libury would have any information at all. A half-normie attending a monster school was weird enough. A half-normie with a whole other person living rent-free inside him was practically unheard of. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to look. So he searched the psychology section of the libury up and down. An idea came into his head. His grandfather was a student at Monster High. Surely he must have left some kind of trace. His finger scanned along the list of authors’ names on the spines of the books, searching for a name he recognized. He looked across the “J” section and the “H” section, but didn’t find anything. Seems his grandfather was better at hiding his tracks than he thought. Jackson sighed and stepped back into the open part of the libury just as Frankie and Deuce came bounding back down the stairs.
“There’s a whole section on the Jekyll-Hyde family. It isn’t all that long, but it’s better than nothing, right?” Frankie held up a thick leather-bound book with both hands.
“Fair enough, I guess. We should leave, though. The liburian has been side-eyeing me ever since we got in here. Let’s check out and get out.” Jackson subtly gestured to the very cranky looking old ghost woman that was sitting behind a wooden desk. The three of them checked out the encycreepedia in Jackson’s school libury account and left, headed for Deuce’s car.

Even though Deuce could technically drive, he was only permitted, not licensed. So, under a frankly stupid legal technicality, it was illegal for him to drive them home. Frankie had never been behind a wheel, so Deuce begrudgingly passed the keys over to Jackson. He was often the personal chauffeur of the friend group, but he didn’t mind. Deuce had a nice car, all things considered. He certainly wouldn’t complain about getting to drive it.
“Dad’s place isn’t far, just downtown, across the bridge, and a few streets east.” Jackson put the car into reverse and pulled out of the parking lot.
Jackson always enjoyed the views over the Willamette River. He’d spent most of his early childhood living in London, right off the River Thames. And while the cityscape of London was certainly a sight to behold, something about the picturesque view across the river, able to see a few buildings poking out from behind trees, was something completely new altogether. Just as Jackson had calmed his nerves about his circumstances, he heard a quiet voice in his mind.
“Crash it.”
Jackson took a deep breath, gripping the steering wheel. Hoping this thing could hear him, he whispered out a few words, quiet enough that Deuce in the front seat couldn’t hear. “That’ll kill me, too.”
“Isn’t that what you want? If you go down, why not take everybody else down with you?”
The blood was quick to drain from Jackson’s face as they got off the bridge. He was quick to find a side road and pull the car over. He put it in park and unbuckled his seatbelt.
“What’s up, dude?” Deuce asked.
“I can’t drive right now. It’s not far. Just switch me.”
“Are you sure? What if we get pulled over?”
“It’s like, less than a mile. Please, just drive the rest of the way there.” Jackson stood beside the open passenger side door. Deuce sighed and got out of his seat, making his way to the driver’s side. Before starting to drive, though, Deuce leaned over and put a hand on Jackson’s arm.
“You’re gonna be okay, man. We’re gonna figure it out.”
Jackson wiped the sweat from his forehead and nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”

Without much further delay, they made their way the short remaining distance to the address sent in their group chat. It was a rather simple house in a rather normal suburban neighborhood, nothing terribly out of the ordinary other than a few tacky lawn ornaments. They walked up the driveway and to the steps where a worn-out welcome mat was sitting. Jackson drew in a sharp breath and rang the doorbell.
When the door swung open, they were greeted by a tall man with blue skin and flames for hair- Frankie suddenly didn’t question where Holt got his appearance from. He seemed rather surprised to see the three teenagers on his doorstep.
“Jackson?” The man said.
“Hey, dad. Can we stay the night?”

Chapter Text

Jackson’s father, Cole, was quick to convert his living room to a de facto bedroom for the three kids who had appeared at his front door. He didn’t know why, and he didn’t need to. If his son wanted to have a sleepover at his house, the only question he’d even think of asking was what snacks they wanted. He remembered how he was when he was only an ember. Cole was quick to offer up the Wi-Fi password and the remote to the TV so they could watch whatever they wanted. He sat down on his sectional couch and glanced between the three of them.
“So, what brings you all here? I don’t usually get visitors.”
Deuce and Frankie stayed quiet, looking at Jackson, silently encouraging him to talk. Jackson sighed and looked up at his dad.
“I’ve been hearing unusual things. All three of us think it has something to do with the whole Jekyll and Hyde thing, but Mom wouldn’t tell me anything.”
Cole huffed, looking down at the rug on the floor. “Yep, that’s Sydney.”
“Why doesn’t she tell me anything, Dad? She didn’t even tell me about Holt until I found out about him myself. Did you know about Holt?”
“Your mother loves you, Jackson, she really does. She wants to protect you. Being part of that side of the family is never easy. She just thinks that if you don’t know, you won’t be hurt by it.” Cole brought a hand up to massage the bridge of his nose. “And to answer your question, I did know about Holt. He’s my son, too. I wanted to tell you, but Sydney thought it’d do more harm than good. So I stayed quiet.”
Jackson remained silent, tapping his thumbs together.
“I know you probably wish I told you sooner. I can’t blame you. Sydney was lucky enough to grow up with someone who truly understood what it meant to be a Jekyll/Hyde. But all things considered? I think you turned out pretty well.”
“You- you do?” Jackson glanced up at Cole.
“Of course. You should hear the others at the restaurant, they always tell me how much I brag about my sons. I can’t help it, though. My sons are pretty great.”
Jackson didn’t say anything, but he smiled. And from the warmth that started to appear in his head, Holt was smiling too.

“Okay, okay. Sappy time over,” Deuce said, his tone laced with sarcasm. “We gotta figure out what’s up with Jax.”
“We picked up an encycreepedia from the libury that has records on all the members of the Jekyll/Hyde lineage.” Frankie dug into her bag and pulled out the red leather book.
“Right, right. You all came here for help. What does the book say?” Cole asked.
“We haven’t looked yet. Figured it’d be best to get a look when we weren’t going to get caught in school after the bell rang.” Deuce flipped the book open to the correct page and peered over it.
“‘Henry Jekyll,’” Jackson read aloud, “‘Renowned doctor. Born July 6th, 1850 in London. As of January 20th, 2010, he is 159 years old. The mixture of monster DNA with his own is thought to have slowed the aging process exponentially, thus allowing him to survive for longer than a human would be able to. Physically, he is equivalent to a 74 year old human male. Edward Hyde, the manifestation of Henry Jekyll’s immoral side, first known appearance made in 1886. For all intents and purposes, a medical anomaly. Henry and Edward are considered one in the same. They share memories and all of Edward’s actions are considered to be Henry’s. The mutation of Jekyll’s DNA is dominant in his genes, and is carried down to all descendants.
“‘Sydney Jekyll. Daughter of Henry Jekyll and Emma Carew. Born March 16th, 1923 in London. As of January 20th, 2010, she is 86 years old. The mixture of monster DNA with her own is thought to have slowed the aging process exponentially from birth. Physically, she is equivalent to a 36 year old human female. Henrietta Hyde. Daughter of Edward Hyde and Emma Carew, manifested from birth. Shares a physical body with Sydney Jekyll. They do not share memories, but all of Henrietta’s actions are considered to be Sydney’s, though made with partially clouded judgment. Henrietta’s physical appearance implies separate monstrous traits passed down from ancestors.’”

Jackson paused. His finger trailed down the page as he read, eventually settling on his own name. “Jackson.”
“Why isn’t there a last name?” Frankie asked.
“I dunno.” Jackson turned his gaze back to the page. “‘Son of Sydney Jekyll and Cole Burns. Born May 30th, 1994 in London. As of January 20th, 2010, he is 15 years old. No signs of slowed aging have been detected; he is physically equivalent to a 15 year old human male. DJ, also known as ‘Holt’. Son of Henrietta Hyde and Cole Burns, manifested from birth. Takes on all physical traits of Cole Burns’s fire elemental heritage, though with the lack of horns or a tail due to the confines of the human body. Shares a physical body with Jackson. They do not share memories, and all of their actions are independent of one another. They are to be considered two separate people. This is thought to be due to a mutation caused by combining Henry Jekyll’s distorted DNA with that of other monsters.’”
Jackson looked back and forth across the page. The paragraph had ended, but he was still scanning the margins for any other clues.
“What’s wrong?” Cole leaned forward and followed his son’s gaze as it flicked across the words.
“This is only telling me things I already know. Nothing about how to actually fix my problem,” Jackson huffed.
“Well, maybe understanding more about yourself will help you out?” Frankie suggested, though the false optimism in her voice shone through.
“Sure.” Jackson grabbed a blanket from the couch and wrapped it around his shoulders.
Cole was silent for a moment before a thought came into his mind. “Hey, here’s a million dollar idea. The library in town probably has some more records on your old man. Humans eat that kind of thing up. No offense.”
“None taken.”
“But maybe there’s something there that’ll let us know.”
Jackson stared up at his dad through his glasses, and after a moment of mildly uncomfortable eye contact, he smiled. “Okay, okay. We can try.”
“There we go. It’s closed now, but we can go tomorrow. I think it’d be best if you stayed home from school until we get this fixed, Jackson. I’ll give the Headmistress a call later.”
“Okay, Dad.”
“In the meantime, I was thinking about whipping up some of my reaper poppers. Anyone hungry?”

Frankie and Jackson both stayed in the living room and flicked through channels on the TV while Deuce went to get the recipe for the poppers in question. Holt did always talk about how good of a cook his dad was, Deuce would be remiss if he didn’t get some pointers.
“Now, you can add scream cheese to the middle of the reapers, but I prefer mine without. Helps enhance the spice,” Cole explained.
“Yep. So you just need these to be cut in half and breaded?” Deuce peered over Cole’s shoulder.
“Mhmm.” For a while, the two were silent, the only noise coming from the ever-changing TV in the other room. They stayed quiet and chopped up reapers until Cole spoke up again. “Thank you.”
“For helping with the poppers? No problem, Mr. Jackson’s Dad.”
“No, not that, though help is always appreciated.” Cole set down his knife and leaned against the counter. “I wanted to thank you for being my son’s friend.”
“It’s really not a big deal. Your son is cool. Both of them are.”
“I know. It’s just…” Cole paused, looking through the doorway into the living room. “They’ve had it rough their entire lives. I want to help them out, but there’s only so much a dad can do, you know? He never had many friends growing up. I know it means the world to both of them that you’ve stuck around.”
Deuce smiled up at Cole. “It’s not a big thing. I’m friends with ‘em because I want to be.”
“I know. And from the bottom of my heart, thank you. A friend like you is just the thing I always knew he needed in life.”
“Thanks, Mr. Jackson’s Dad.”
“Please. Call me Cole.” Cole picked up his knife again and got back to cutting up the peppers. “You know, Jackson sends me pictures every time you two hang out.”
“He does?”
“He does. And he never says it, but I know what it means every time he does it.”
Deuce blinked a few times, waiting for him to continue.
Cole sighed wistfully and grinned to himself. “It’s like he’s saying ‘Look, Dad. He’s still here.’”
If Deuce had any less self control, he could’ve started crying. “Yeah, that sounds like Jax, alright. Sappy little shit.”
“Mm. Plus, he thinks you’re pretty.” Cole smirked.
“Huh?”

Once the food was ready, the four of them all sat down in front of the TV. Jackson had put on some normie game show called “Jeopardy”. Frankie didn’t quite get the concept, but all of the different parts of her brain loved the trivia questions. Soon enough, the sun had set, and all of them were winding down for bed. Cole had gone to his bedroom, but was insistent that if they needed anything, they could get him. Frankie and Deuce had offered to make themselves a “bed” out of pillows and blankets while Jackson could have the couch. And just as Jackson had turned off the lamp, someone from the depths of his mind spoke up.
“Hey.” Holt. “Let me out.”
“Why the hell do you want out? I’m just going to sleep.”
“Please?”
“Fine.” Jackson pulled his phone off the charger and grabbed Holt’s headphones from his school bag. He picked out a song from Holt’s playlist and slid on the headphones.
Holt grinned, getting off the couch, stepping over his friends, and making his way to Deuce’s bag. “Oh, where did that jackass put his keys?”
“Holt. Whatever you’re thinking, don’t do it.”
“Hey, I told you I’d take care of ‘Fade. That involves getting back home, and I ain’t walkin’ there. So we’re taking Deuce’s car.”
“Okay, but if you crash it, I swear to the gods-”
“I won’t crash it, don’t get your tits in a tangle. I’m a better driver than you anyway.” After a little while longer of the quietest snooping Holt could manage, he found the car keys, hung from a lanyard that they’d gotten him. “Alrighty, let’s go get our little buddy.”

It took a little bit of time for Holt to figure out exactly how to drive Deuce’s car. He didn’t get to drive all that often ever since he hit that truck. But it wasn’t his fault! They were being an asshole. Eventually, with a little bit more of Jackson’s help than he’d admit, Holt had managed to get to their house.
He drove past it, stopping the car down the road in the parking lot of some restaurant that wasn’t open anymore. As quietly as he could, he made his way around the backside of his house. Lucky for him, he’d climbed into and out of his room more times than he could count. The awning of the patio just so happened to be right under his window. He opened the glass pane, pushed aside his curtains, and stumbled into his bedroom.
It was exactly how they’d left it. It’d only been a day, yet it felt so foreign. Holt made his way over to Crossfade’s cozy glass enclosure.
“Hey, buddy,” He whispered, “Sorry we didn’t come home last night. It’s really complicated. Too much for your tiny little brain to understand.” He let the horned chameleon crawl onto his hand as he grabbed Crossfade’s smaller travel cage. He set his pet inside and grabbed a small case of food. “Sorry about this. Once we get everything sorted, you’ll be back in your big ol’ cage soon enough. Let’s get out of here.”
“Wait. Do you hear that?”
“Hear what, Jax?”
“From downstairs.”
Holt pushed open his bedroom door slowly, so it wouldn’t creak. From his limited view downstairs, he could see his mother pacing back and forth in the kitchen. He pulled his headphones off one ear so he could hear better.
“A missing persons report, yes. My son didn’t come home from school, and I haven’t seen or heard from him all night,” Sydney said.
Holt exchanged a glance with Crossfade.
“What? No, he’s always home on time, he isn’t that kind of kid. Yes, yes, his name is Jackson Jekyll- yes, like from the book.”
There was a brief pause. Even over his music, Holt could hear his heart beating in his ears.
“6’3”, brown hair, and his eyes are two different colours, blue and brown. He’s 15. No, just him. Okay. Yes, thank you.” Sydney hung up the phone and began walking upstairs. Holt was quick to slip back into his room and climb back out of the window.

It didn’t take long for them to get back on the road. Holt had set Crossfade’s cage and food in the passenger seat, taking special care to make sure his chameleon was buckled up properly. He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel as he drove Deuce’s car out of the parking lot.
“What’s on your mind?”
“It ain’t nothin’, Jax. Don’t sweat it.”
“I’m in your head. Literally and figuratively. You can’t hide anything from me. You’re upset about something.”
Holt sighed, looking back and forth as they stopped at a red light. “She just… she didn’t even mention me.”
“You mean when she was filing the report?”
“Yeah. I mean, what if you were stuck as me? They wouldn’t have anything to go off. You probably wouldn’t ever be found if you didn’t wanna be, y’know?”
“I know.”
“Do you think she cares about me as much as she cares about you?”
Jackson’s hesitance seeped into Holt’s own conflicted emotions as he muttered the scariest thing Holt could’ve heard in the moment. “I don’t know.”
“Mm.”
“Do you hate me for it? That she spends more time with me and worries more about me than she does with you?”
“No. I don’t blame you. Sure, I wish I was in your shoes. But hey, every parent’s got favourite kids. Even if they don’t wanna admit it.” Holt gritted his teeth and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “And even if their sons are the same dude.”
“It’ll be ok.”
“I know.”
“I mean it.”
“I know.”

Holt pulled back into the driveway of their dad’s home, grabbing Crossfade and walking back to the front door. He entered the house quietly, just in case anybody was still awake on their I-Coffins. Luckily, it looked like both Deuce and Frankie were dead asleep. So he set Crossfade’s temporary enclosure on the coffee table, pulled off his headphones, and let Jackson get the rest he deserved.

The three of them awoke to the sunlight peeking through the curtains and the smell of bacon cooking. After some idle chatter and a quick (and delicious) home-cooked breakfast, the four of them set off to the town library in Cole’s car. It wasn’t as modern or reliable as Deuce’s, but it got the job done well enough.
“So,” Frankie began, turning around from her spot in the front seat. “How’d you get Crossfade to your dad’s place?”
“Wasn’t my idea,” Jackson said, “Holt snuck out last night. Insisted on bringing him over.”
Cole laughed and glanced in the rear view mirror. “You know, I don’t mind if either of you sneak out. So long as you’re back in the morning.”
“Hm, that’s a help. Mom filed a missing person report for me after I was gone for one night. Holt overheard her on the phone with the cops when he was getting Crossfade.”
“Is that so?” Cole arched an eyebrow. “That sounds like Sydney, alright. Are you sure you don’t want Holt to come to the library?”
“I’m sure. I wanna figure this out on my own.”
“You’re the boss, Jax.” Cole pulled the car into the small, uncomfortably tight parking lot of the New Salem Public Library.

Seeing one monster on the normie side of town was uncommon. Seeing three in one place was even stranger. Jackson was well aware of the judgmental looks their group was getting from the human patrons of the library. But given his circumstances, he couldn’t bring himself to care. Once they were in the library, they split up. Cole and Frankie went to the Monster Biology section. If it were biological, the books there would have it. Meanwhile, Deuce and Jackson made their way over to the Monster History section. With New Salem’s sizable monster population, it was a necessity to have. It was filled from shelf to shelf with books written about, for, and most importantly, by monsters.
Jackson’s hand brushed across the spines of the books, his gaze absentmindedly scanning the author names. Finally, he found a name he recognized. “Jekyll, Henry”. He pulled the book off the shelf and flipped open the front cover. The pages were yellowed with age and a few looked to be completely missing. “Dueling Personalities by Henry Jekyll”, the front page said. Jackson skimmed through the book and landed on a random page. It looked like a sketch of a younger Henry, likely done by the doctor himself. It looked like most of Henry’s traits had skipped a generation, because he looked nearly identical to the boy holding the book. Jackson smiled to himself and walked over to the table where Deuce was waiting.
Their conversation didn’t last long as Jackson was quick to set the book down on the table, flip to a page near the end, and begin reading.

“November 16th, 1886. I write this for I fear I may be unable to any longer. Poole has been unable to bring me the chemical salt needed for my concoction. Every batch he’s brought me has failed to produce the desired effect. Hyde grows stronger day by day. And without the correct chemical salt, I am unable to control him- to control myself. I suspect the first batch of salt had an unknown impurity that I cannot replicate. And with each failed batch, I feel Hyde’s control over me grow. Even in daily life, I hear his influence. Each and every thought is interrupted by yet another, stronger interjection. I split myself from Hyde to indulge in whatever I chose. Though now that I have, and now that I no longer can without putting myself at risk of the law, I find it harder to fight the very urges I created Hyde to embody. Through the locked door, I can hear Poole growing restless, tired. It is only a matter of time until I am discovered and detained. And so, as I put pen to paper, I prepare to bring the life of that unhappy Henry Jekyll to an end. All that yet remains is to seal my confessions, so when I am no more, those closest to me may know my reasoning and my intent, and see past the tragedies.”

Jackson reread what was meant to be his grandfather’s final message to whomever may have been reading. From what he understood, Henry had planned to end his own life because he couldn’t control Hyde. Their circumstances may have been nearly the same, but the causes couldn’t be more different. Henry Jekyll and Edward Hyde were one in the same. Jackson and Holt were not. Holt’s influence over him was no different than his influence over Holt. Though clearly, Henry’s attempt at ridding the world of himself and Hyde had been a fluke- Jackson knew better than anyone that his grandfather was still alive. Their family seemed to have a knack for hiding from the law.

Jackson looked up as his father and Frankie approached their table.
“No luck in the Biology section,” Frankie said, putting her hands on her hips. “You two have any luck?”
“I found this book that Grandpa wrote. Some kind of timeline of everything that happened with him and Hyde. There’s even some sketches in here.” Jackson flipped back to the page he’d first found. “This one he did of himself.” He showed the book to Cole and Frankie.
“That isn’t Henry,” Cole said, rather matter-of-factly. “That’s Edward. Longer hair, crooked nose, impacted canines. You should’ve seen how confused I was when your mother took me to meet her fathers for the first time.”
“Wait, I don’t get it. We look exactly the same. How is this not Henry Jekyll?”
“It just isn’t.”
Jackson raised an eyebrow. “Tell me more about Edward Hyde.”
Cole exhaled a long breath, sitting down at the round table between Jackson and Deuce. “Well, he was definitely a strange man. Had weird hobbies, and was always complaining about hearing things.”
Jackson exchanged a glance with Deuce. “Go on.”
“Well, he always said that hearing those things was what separated him from Henry. For all intents and purposes, they’re the same person, save for that. Said that whatever he was thinking was what eventually made him give into whatever urges he had and end up killing someone. Oh! And his eyes were two different colours, too.”
Jackson felt his blood run cold. “What colours?”
“Blue and brown. Kinda like yours.”
Suddenly, all eyes in the library were on the normie kid sitting at a table with three monsters. If he had any less self-restraint and any less desire to not humiliate himself in public, Jackson was quite certain he would’ve started hyperventilating. He took a deep breath and looked up at his dad. “Can you give me a lift to mom's house?”
“Are you sure you want to leave so soon? Will you be checking that book out?” Cole asked.
“I’ve learned all I need to. I just need to ask Mom to make sure.”
“Okay, you’re the boss.” The four of them walked back out to Cole’s car and started the drive to Sydney Jekyll’s house.

Jackson had insisted on sitting in the front. The last thing he wanted was for his friends to have to deal with this. He stared down at his feet and whispered to his mirror half.
“Are you still hearing things too?”
“Yeah, it’s been weird.” Holt was quick to respond.
“What kind of things?”
“Uh. Smart people things? Kinda how I got the answers for the anatomy homework. And how I managed to not make a total idiot out of myself in Clawculus.”
“Things that you think a doctor would know?”
“Yeah, exactly!”
Jackson huffed and picked at his fingertips. “Figures.”

Not too long after, they found themselves in the calm neighborhood on the normie side of town that Sydney called home. Jackson unbuckled his seatbelt and walked inside.
Frankie unbuckled hers as well, but Cole responded by pressing a button near his center console.
“Why’d you lock the doors?” She asked.
“I don’t think you should go in with him.”
“Why not? I just wanna help.”
Cole stared at the front door of the house that his son had just disappeared into. “This is something he needs to do on his own.”

Jackson unlocked the door to his house and stepped inside. Almost immediately, he heard the clicking of shoes coming down the wooden stairs.
“Oh, Jackson!” Sydney descended down the steps as fast as she could, making her way over to her son with her arms extended to pull him into a hug.
Jackson stepped back, holding his hands in front of himself. “Don’t.”
“What’s gotten into you, honey? Where have you been? Where’s your pet?” Even if she couldn’t hug him, Sydney had to know her son was alright. She cupped his cheeks with both of her hands and looked his face over.
“I was with Dad. I figured out what was wrong.”
“What’d you two figure out?”
“I have a question for you, first.”
“Of course, of course. Come in, I was just about to start a pot of tea.” Sydney practically dragged Jackson into the kitchen and to their table by his wrist. She grabbed a kettle, poured in a fair bit of water, and set it on the stove. “So, what’s your question?”
“Between Holt and myself. Am I Jekyll or Hyde?”
Sydney’s hand froze over the cupboard handle. She didn’t turn to face him, only cleared her throat and started to speak. “Well- it’s complicated.”
“So I was right? I’m not Jekyll at all.”
“Honey, please, just let me-”
“No, I'll talk first. Why didn’t you tell me? Am I just supposed to figure everything out myself? Is that how you want me to go through my entire life? Scared and confused?”
“Jackson,” Sydney said, her tone more firm and harsh than he’d ever heard it. “Let me explain.”

Sydney and Jackson sat down on opposite sides of the living room. Sydney hadn’t seen her son this upset with her since he’d first figured out about Holt.
“Look,” She began, “The Hyde lineage changed from Dad to me. It changed from me to you. Both times, something unexpected happened. With me, it meant I don’t share my memories with my Hyde side. With you… the Hyde side became the dominant side. You.”
“And you didn’t tell me because?”
“I grew up knowing about everything because my Dad told me. It made navigating my life so much more difficult. So with you, I thought that if you didn’t know, it wouldn’t be as confusing. I had just hoped that everything would work itself out. All I wanted was to protect you.”
“Yeah, and you did a fan-fucking-tastic job there. Do you have any idea what it was like waking up in places you didn’t remember going in clothes you didn’t remember buying? I wanted nothing more than to make plans, but I never knew when my next blackout was going to be. I wanted to make friends, but I scared them all off because of a condition I didn’t know I had. I had to get the ghoul I was dating to explain everything to me because of an accident with the loudspeakers. I’ve been miserable my entire life.” Jackson looked up at his mother, his eyes portraying a venom his heart couldn’t hold. “And it was because of you.”
“I messed up, Jackson. I know. But just give me a second chance, I’ll do better. I promise you.”
Jackson squinted his eyes, silent for a few seconds. “That’s what you said when I found out about Holt. All things considered, you’re on your second chance. And all things considered, you blew it.”
“Don’t be rash. I’m your mother. I still love you.”
Jackson said nothing.
“I said I love you, Jackson.”
“Okay.” Jackson stood up, starting to walk up the stairs. “I’ll be in my room.”
Holt, being in Jackson’s head, knew exactly what he was planning. “Not for long.”

Jackson shoved as many of his belongings as he could into his spare messenger bag. It’d taken him and Holt some time to decide on what they wanted to take other than the basics- clothes, hygiene, school supplies, etcetera. Crossfade’s food stash was a given. His enclosure wouldn’t fit. More things went into the bag. Jackson’s photo album, their tablet, extra sets of earbuds, a phone charger. And since Holt wouldn’t shut up about it, Jackson slung Holt's red electric guitar over his shoulder and opened his window. He climbed down onto the back porch, glancing out into the driveway. His dad wasn’t there- he’d probably already given Deuce and Frankie a ride home. Jackson grabbed his phone, sending a text to his dad saying he didn’t need to come pick him up. Then, he pulled out his keys, got into his car, and left the house.

It didn’t take Jackson and Holt long to adjust to their life at their dad’s place. One of the first things Cole did was buy a bigger enclosure for Crossfade and deck it out with the chameleon’s favourite things. Luckily enough, the house had two spare rooms that they were quick to settle into. They’d gone to Bite-kea and picked out furniture they each liked, and soon enough, their rooms were fully equipped with a desk, bed, and, for the first time in their life, separate closets. Holt certainly enjoyed the chance to decorate his own room from scratch- he’d never gotten to before, and he plastered band posters and vinyl records on the walls to his heart’s content.
Three days after moving in, in the middle of the night, Jackson got a text from Deuce.
-D.G.: Heard ab what happened. How’s it goin at pateras’s place?
Jackson smiled down at his phone and typed his reply.
-J.J.: Good. Me n Holt finally have separate rooms, thank the gods. There was never enough room for us before.
-D.G.: That’s awesome, man. So, r u gonna change ur name to Jackson Hyde?
-J.J.: Nah. I kinda like the alliteration. Doesn’t have the same ring as Jackson Jekyll, yk?
-D.G.: Totally, dude. How r u holding up, tho? Must be all weird and shit
-J.J.: A little. But so far, living with dad has been awesome.
-D.G.: Fuckin mint. Just lmk if you need anything, k? We could go out for lunch later this week?
-J.J.: There’s this new place that opened up in the maul. I’ve been dying to try it.
-D.G.: Yell heah, sounds like a plan.
-D.G.: It’s all gna be ok, tho, dude.
-J.J.: I know.